Carmine

Cold night

By myself I go

in the middle of the night

this very quiet night

where I feel this very cold wind

going thru the bandage that I just replaced

around my battle scarred body

the wind feel so cold but yet so refreshing

making me wanna run

and

reach out my hands

so the wind can go thru my finger tips

the air creates an illusion of freedom

a feeling that can make everybody addicted

making even the smartest run like fools

creating illusions that distract one

from reality

this dream that I am seeing

is not just gonna be my end

but also my resting place

this breeze makes me move

closer and closer

to a mountain

where I can see all the stars

see all the lamps and houses

that dares to light up this world

I call beautiful 

I know that I am a fool

I know that my knowledge is wasted

I know that my anxiety is taking is grip

but is time I let the wind take me

not to the skies

but to the depths of the dirt

that they call my gravestone

because the last feeling warmth

was when I was looking up

finally feeling the ground under me

making me colder and colder

but warm on the heart

I am free

I am a fool

and

I\'ll regret it later

but I\'ll wait until the

Gravedigger

has come to claim his price

with the grim reaper 

 

G̵̨̠͓͔̖̎̀̈̌̉̃̽̀̒͆́́̀̀ơ̶͎̯̦̋̓͒̄͆͊̚̚͝ǫ̷͙̮̫̮̹̭͐͑̇̂͛̈̑̍͑̐̚͠͝d̶͈͍͕̜͕̻̂̀͑̽͛͜͝͝ ̷̢͖͚̊̐̇͊̆̊͆̕͠͝b̸͎͍̳̲̼̫̞̣͖́̈̾͊̓̑̀̓͘͝͝y̵͚̦̰͇̮̯͑̚͜͜ę̴̲̪͇̦͍̤̣͙̹͒̔̍ͅ

 

I̵͍̫̮͋̒͌̒̌͌̊̆͘\'̸̛̰͔̝̀́̐ĺ̷̡̗̬̠̙͚̝̟͕͚̤͚̜̪͚̎̇̃́͂̈́̕l̷̆͜ ̶̫̞͎̟͙̗̜̅̒̈́̈́́̊͛̒͋͆̏̚a̶̮̙̦͆̀̉̆̾̿̒̀̽̊͝͝l̴̹̖͎̔̊́̓̀̊̑̒́̚w̵̗͕͋̆̂͑̍a̸̢̡͔͕͎͉̩̤͖̺͛̒̋̾ͅy̷̪͒̎̓̄̀̓̆̊́̎̂̕͝͝ş̸͙̀́̇̋ ̵̲̟̟̼͍̠̊͂͠b̷̟͑͒̍̿̔͊̐̌̾̋̎̅̚̚͠ȩ̸̤̘͉̫̱̪̝͍͗̿͋̀̎͊̉͆̈́͑̅̐͑͘͘ ̷̨̫͇̹̐̎͌̚w̴͉̗̻͖͈̦̻̾̈́̇́̿͊̎̂̀̌͘i̴̻͛͐̆̐̋͛̔͊t̶̛̳̟̖̝̠̤̹̩̩̑̄̋̑̐̋͋̔͝h̵̼͉̣̤̪̮͖̗̣̺͇̘̫͚̆͜ ̸̧̻̝̎̑͊̕̚y̵̢͇̭̪̥̫̳̲̙̬̻̤͈͗͑̆̓̋̀̍̕̕͝ͅȍ̷̪̟̞̯͉̬̣̠̹̖̐̚͜ͅû̷̧͇͖̻̮͚̻͍̻̞̖͎̈̈́͑͠ͅ

 

ę̷̧̯̠̜̱̲͔͚̦̬̜͗̏͐̆̋́̇̀̔̋̔̇̿̕͘͜v̶̱̪͆̚ȩ̶̨̢͍̼̩̤̝͚̞̲̦͖̿͗̈́̿̿͜n̴̘͖̈́̑̾̏͆͛ ̶̲͚̫̤̣̭̠̗̠̂̈́͗͒̅̽̆͋͌͘͠͠ä̵̢̨̰̪͔̝͉̯̱͙̹̫̪́̎̀́͛̇̆̽͑̕͜f̷̡̛̠͎̺̜͚̣͙̣̟̹̜̀ͅt̴͍̣̬͠e̵̢̨̥̹̮̲̤̬̦͓͔̙͒̽͛̑̀͑̍̑̌͋͛̇̚͠͠r̸̭͚̻̳̱̎̐͘ ̸̢̣̬̥́̾̒̒̑́̉̊̆̓͝d̸̙̗̩͎̙̘̥͗̋͑͂͌̂̿͊̀e̵͖̬̍a̶̫̹̫̖͓̯̽͑̏̏̾̂̎͜ͅţ̸̟̰̲̃̓͊̉ḩ̶̢̧̠̬͖̣̼̋̅̑̂͒̍

 

b̷̛̖̹̞͇̍̓̑é̵̢̡̨̦͓̝͔̙͇̈́̽̋̃c̶̗͙̓̑̒ä̴̧̛̻͕̫̖͉͉̞̫̣̗̦͓́̆̒̎̇̐̈́̀̽̉̓̚͝ͅu̵͖̽̋͂́̈́̓̄̚̚͘͠s̸̢̞͓̜̰̠̗̟̭͖̦̒͆́͋͒̇̾͑̕͝ͅe̶̙̠̩̩͔̒̃̑̽͆̏̌̂͝ ̶̛̭̝̅͋̀̋̂̃͗̅͂̏̚̕͜͜͠I̷̡̹̥͓̩̹̗͙͚̯̺͉̯̲̪̅̋͗̅͘͠ ̵̛̛̲̤̲̗͊͑͒͋̾̑̋́͐͆̄͊̕a̸̠̯̭͗̒̿͌̌m̸̭̱̬̭̥̲̩̓̈́ ̸̨̛̝̱̳̪̥͔͖̜͇͌̀̾̂̂ͅą̴̮̟̮̱͙̹͙̝̓͌̆́̍͊̈́̆̑̎͐́͜͝ ̶̰͓̜͙̭̯̤̺̦̌̔͗̈́̈́͑̀̊́͆̀̂͑͘͝r̴͕͚͖̒͗̉̌e̸̻͍͖͍̠̠͝m̷̧͚̖̪͖͉̞̱̟̱͖͚̘̣̰͗́̄͒͝ņ̷̧̣̩̭͎͍͓͉̜̺̲̉̍́̈́̑̀́͘͘͝͝ͅã̴̢̛̻̠͉͙͚̔ņ̴̘̘͉̜̲͚̺̖̰͍̝͑̈́̐̃̄̃̽͛̓̋̍̕͜͝t̸̛͇̻͌͋͂̓̈̍̎͆̂͒͒̊̓̚

 

ô̶͔̰̳̯̔̀͆͒̃̎͊͋̐̅f̶͎̻̤̫͍̲̂͒͌̔͘ ̸̪̞̠̭͛̍̒̾͗͐͂͑ä̸̧͍̩̤̰̮̱̪̮̜͔̤̩͈́̽͋̿̀̍̀̾̇̃̾̃̓͂͘ͅ ̶̢̛̗̩͉̫̗̟̫̫͍̲͉̈́́͐̅̌̀̓̕̚͜͠͝o̵̡̡̠̔͌̓̑̍͗͌͋̋̑̕̕͠͝ĺ̵̬̲̳̼͔̱̃͒̍͠͠ͅḍ̸̹͇̫̻̃͋ ̸͙̪̬̣͚̟͔̥̆̆̕m̵͉̖̩̟̲̉̔̎̈́͗̇̾̀̕͜ê̴̱͓͔̗͓͓̫̰͓̦̮̅͛̈́̓͂͐̍̌̿͛̕ͅm̷̧̛̪̯͉͔͈͇͇̤̙̘͙̬̪͂̈́̋͌́͜͝o̴̠͔͚̮̹̤͎͠r̴̦̬̼̄̑͛ỷ̴̫͚͎̥̞̈́̔̐͒́̾̈́̌̋̑͘

 

Ḯ̶̧̺͚̝͎ ̷̺͇̂͋̄̃͊͌̏̋̕͠a̷̢͈̙̞͍͚̰̥̮̰͚̯̲̎̉͋̓̇̑̎͋̋̓̆̆̓͝m̸̨̢͔͖̙̫̮̳̃̎̌̈́͐̈̈͆̽̾͜ ̵͙̤̮͚̟̜̲̦̗̠̯̗̺̭̠́̌̋̓͒̃͝͝Ď̵̨̹̯̙̜͎͗̐̀͆͌̽̍̔̌̓͠a̶̓͂͋̽͜͜͝n̸̙̪̭͕͗̉͗͌͋͝͝͝i̸̞̠̙̬̓̆́̐̐̎̏̎̉̈̉̚ḙ̷̝̼̦̗̣͕̟̱̭̤͍̒̓̾͗̉͂̓͝ͅl̶̊̒̈̊͂̇̓̀͌́̓̚͘͜͝͝

 

\'̴̲͚̝̞̼̠͓͈̮͒̓̃̍̀́͜\'̷͕̱̻̬̱͕̻̺̰̲̝̟͇̥͉̓͊̓͛͛͂̚͝͝G̶̼̜̗̫̳̹̣̤͉̯̻̦͑͛̒̍͊ǒ̴͖̰͕̜̺͎̻̟̱ͅd̸̩̜̪̰͙̘̫̯͔̘̣̪̄͊̾̑̌̈́ ̸̨̻̫͔̖̺̅̇͊̀̽͛̀͜ȋ̸̖͕̘̣͎̀̐̌̾ͅs̵͎̙̣͚̭͈͎̻̫̖̯͎̬̯͖̀͝ ̸̨̱̟͎̦̮̳̠͖͇̿̎̆͑̇̂͆̾̍̕͝m̶̢͚̬̱̠̫̲̗̠͂̆͐̊̕ͅy̸̮̳̭̹̻̔̇͊ ̶̨̞̲̤̱̩̩͍̾̑̊̋́̀̚j̴͎̏̍u̵̻̣̙̖̯̭̟̝̰͕̥̭̲̹̿̂d̸̛̖̱̭͎̝̓̈̓̈̋́̚͜g̸̛̞̮͓̬̘̥̼͂͛̀̐͂̃̂̎͆̉͗͐͊̒ẹ̶̡̡̰͉͍̟̝͇̹̠͚̪̺͑̕͜\'̵̢̩͓̞̺̼̏̏̀̄̅͌̑͌̎͂̈́͝͝͠\'̸̻́̐̅͊̏̐͐

 

b̸͖̪̭̣͋͒͋͜ȩ̸̟͖͉̰̼̻̣̳̲̠̱̱̀͗͘͜c̸̢̛͕͓̭̆̈́̍͗̓͌̐͜ą̵̡̳̣̭͉̲͊͑̽̈́̈́͛̎͗̈́̈̕͘̚ṷ̴̹̖̳̦̠̣̗̼̂́s̸̥̖̤͍̼̞̤̬̬̝̐̀̆͂̀̔͋́͆ͅę̷̡̧̟̰̲̩̞̳̜̻͋̈́͑̽͆̏̃͛̀ ̸̻̬̠͉̌͛t̶͈̻̮͙͖̱̫̪͈̣͇͂̇̎̆͛͊͜ͅḫ̶̪͔̘̻̭̈̒̎͆͜͝a̶̰̰̠͍̬̘͐̐̈́͆͗́̾̐͋̈̀͘͘͝͝t̵̨̢͇̞̻͔̱͚̞̖̫̭̦̅̓͋́̂̀͛ ̴̫͙̘̣͙͋̓͂į̸̧͉̗̗̳͖̺̟̀̀̿̈́ş̴̛̛͕̺͇̩̩͂͐͐̈́̋́̈́͆͌̈́̄͜͜͜ ̵͚̝̤̬̝͉͈̬̬͈̰̩͙̘̖̉͂́̉͌́͌̍͑̑̚̚t̶͈̝̭̟̺̞͙͇̯͔͔͐̄͂̍̀͆͑͜h̵̺̆ȩ̶̛͈̦̯͉̰̱͓̞̰̺̝͆̐̏̃̾̐̇͂̅̿̂̆͝ ̸̧̡̧̠̥͚̦̑̓̓̇̽̾̀̐͐̓̋̌͌͘͝ȑ̷̢̥̳͇͎̣̱̠̗͖̮̤̽͂͆̓͐̌e̴̺̲̮͙̮͔͎̝̝͑à̸̧̗̱̼̼̥͔̯̪͇̩͒́͆̽͊̎̎̀́͐̐͜͝ͅl̶̲̼̪̹͔̩̻̝̟͎̗̙̳͒̈́̂̒ ̶͉̘̈̈́̅͛͌m̵̡̘̰͉̿̈́ȩ̵̲̞̭̩͓́̕ä̷̢̛͖̳̭̼͈͙̩͈͈̺̤̺̲͐͒̌̀̔̑͠͠ṋ̸́̃́̍̎̇͊̉̄̚ì̵̢͔͙̜̐̿̃̽̿͐̋̉̈́͝n̴̨͍̹͕̼͙̥̣̼̈̀́̽̾͐̓̈́̑̈́̏ĝ̶̡̰͇̟͍̟̬̱̗̅̽͗̒̄̀͛̋̌̆̚͠ ̸̨̧̩̦̩̟̟͍̠͈̹͍͛o̷̫͎͝f̸̧͔̤̹͓̻̟̙͖̲̠̌́̒̑̓̒ ̴̨̛̛̪̙͓͓̦̳̋̂̉͋͌͒̽͂̓̓͆͝ï̷͎̤̖̫̼͙̠̮̀̓͒̈̐̌̉̋͑͘͜͝t̸̨̖͈͇͙̱̫́͛̃̋̔̇͂͆͒͊̈̍͜͝